Photography as Meditation

How being behind the lens acts as a platform for mindfulness, for me

When I’m behind the camera I become immersed in the moment I’m framing and capturing with my camera. I lose track of all time. So much so that if I’m on a shoot with a deadline or time constraint I usually ask my colleagues to be the timekeepers.

Take the shot above. I rode down to Bondi Beach on my electric bike, arriving well before the sun rose. At first I just enjoyed the moment, breathing in the fresh air and becoming one with nature. As the sun rose the beach came alive with activity and people began venturing into the water. I captured this almost reverse sunrise with the light shining down onto the ocean, while a swimmer took their first tentative steps into the water.

Surfers began popping up on the beach and venturing into the waves.

The surf was slushy onshore (this refers to the wind direction) at about 1-2 feet, typical for summer. It was a stretch finding any decent rides to shoot. Perhaps the wave of the day for me was the one below. The way the light shone through the top of the wave is particularly pleasing.

This surfer didn’t always get it right, as evidenced with this shot.

Mid point along the beach there was a group of people participating in a yoga + ice bath session. This first shot captures them doing a yoga move.

But it is this second shot of them that has me thinking of the phrase, The Cult of Bondi. It almost looks like they are participating in an event with religious overtones.

I also took a photo of Bondi Icebergs, capturing the early morning light reflecting in this iconic building’s windows.

Last shot from this session was of two women entering the water. I liked how the one woman seems to be in a contemplative mood, perhaps swimming in the ocean is her form of meditation, much like photography is mine.

Earlier in the week, I ventured to Watsons Bay, with the plan of walking from Camp Cove to South Head to take in the views of Sydney Harbour where it meets open ocean. However, I’d forgotten that we are still in the height of summer here and it was literally a zoo and car park mixed into one. Instead I walked up to The Gap, which is situated above Watson’s Bay and looks out over the Tasman Sea from a sandstone clifftop. It has a reputation as a notorious suicide spot.

I was struck by how rugged the cliffs are and how much the water swirls around the cliff base. This is indeed a very unforgiving bit of coastline. Tragedy struck this area back in 1857 when a sailing ship with 63 passengers and 59 crew smashed into the tessellated Basalt rock platforms that lie at the base of The Gap’s cliffs. Soon after dark, the captain of the Dunbar had misjudged the entry to the harbour due to poor visibility and bad weather. The next morning crowds gathered on the cliffs to watch as the bodies of those who had drowned were tossed around in the surf. There was only one survivor, who was rescued after hanging onto a rocky ledge for over 30 hours.

One of my photos revealed an interesting feature in the cliff wall - I call it The Claw, and imagine it clutching at hapless suicide victims.

My visit to The Gap, while an opportunity to enjoy the raw beauty of this area, was also sombre. It reminded me that, like many other Sydneysiders, I too have been impacted by this spot, having lost a family friend many years ago. He left a note for his wife and two young children and then jumped to his death from these cliffs.

At this time of the year it is perhaps a poignant reminder to all of us to look after ourselves and our mental health and to regularly check in with loved ones and friends to gauge how they are travelling.

Walking back to Watsons Bay I took this shot across the top of a gazebo and Sydney Harbour to the CBD skyline in the distance.

And then realising I was hot and the sun was glaring down I decided to seek a bit of shade. This is a big issue for me, as due to my heart transplant medication I am 65x more likely to get skin cancer. I cover up as much as possible with protective clothing and sunscreen, but still prefer not to spend too much time in direct sunlight.

I was drawn to a bench in the shade by the sounds of rhythm and blues. I ended up sharing the bench with a musician who was riffing in the park. I couldn’t resist and made a few photos of him as well as a short video.

It seems I’m not the only one to draw a link between mindfulness and photography. Gas Meredith has written a piece about “Enhancing Mindfulness Through Nature Photography” in which he talks about staying present in the moment while capturing shots of nature.

Regardless of whether you find photography meditative, I sincerely hope there is some activity you regularly engage in that brings you joy and gets you into a flow state in which time stands still and you are immersed in the present moment.

When the season’s madness quietens down, I’ll venture back to Camp Cove and make my way up to South Head.